a/n

It was clear from episode 9 that Joey knew from the off who had written the note, but why no-one else considered Roxy always seemed strange. I've never been able to decide if the others are too selfish to be concerned for Joey, or too immature and/or inadequate to cope with the idea that Joey might not been infallible. They never gave any impression of much compassion towards him, just expected him to get on with sorting out life's little problems for them. (My big sister says she's always had to get us out of trouble - there's six of us - the rest of us say she just likes bossing us about! I'm number 3 so I don't know how hard it is being the eldest.)

"Well, what can I say mam? It isn't signed?" Joey looked up from the note Nellie had handed him. What had he thought to himself the other week, things couldn't get any worse? Looked like they just had.

Nellie couldn't believe he'd just said that. Surely he knew who it was from.

Joey stared at the note, it didn't need a signature, he knew that writing, Roxy.

"What difference does it make? Either you have got someone pregnant or you haven't." Nellie was aggravated with him. He must have some idea. Nellie tried to push away the thought that had sprung into her mind the minute she'd read it. Roxy and her lad. The little boy with the big fearful eyes, silent despite her best efforts to coax him to speak more than 'yes' and 'no', 'please' and 'thank you', on the night he'd stayed with them. At the time she'd wondered if he was her grandson, she hadn't seen any resemblance to any of the family but he seemed like he could be the right age to be Joey's. The vagueness of his reply shook Nellie. Just how many women could be a contender?

"Well, I don't know do I? How should I know?" Joey could barely keep a civil tongue to answer his mam. His mind had gone racing away.

"You mean there could be a whole batch of little Joeys out there?" Nellie voiced her indignation, and it kept her mind off the possibility that the letter had come from Roxy.

"No I don't mean that, but well, I'm a young man. I've had a few," he caught Nellie's look, "a lot and some times things go wrong." He managed, just about, to keep his patience with his mam. What game did Roxy think she was playing now?

Nellie sat down defeated. "Nothing would surprise me anymore, so what's one more problem going to matter?"

Joey looked at his mam, he could see how distressed she was. The underlying anger that he'd been feeling about Roxy bubbled up again. "It does matter mam. This note is a lie and you can leave me to sort it out. Now let's have a nice family dinner like we used to with our Billy's gob in the lead." Joey could hear the rest of the family coming in.

"Do you want me to keep it between ourselves?" Nellie was furtive.

"No, I've listened to their problems for long enough. Let them listen to one of mine for a change." What the point of saying that was Joey didn't know. There was no way they'd be the slightest help. He obviously wasn't thinking straight.

Joey gripped his cup, he'd been right. No one had been the slightest help and he'd had to endure a dinner of excruciating embarrassment. What with Adrian going on about Carman, Aveline whinging about having babies, Billy blundering on about how nice it was being a father, offering congratulations, then complaining about Julie, and Shifty oozing sympathy, before admitting that he had a lad himself that he saw sometimes, his problem had, as usual, been dismissed. His mind went back to Shifty. So what with the three engagements, Celia, and now this women, Shifty had hardly been keeping it to himself over the last few years, and he'd had the nerve to lecture him about his behaviour. And his mam, Joey knew just how upset and disappointed she was.

"Right see you later mam. Don't worry ok?"

He left to sit in his car. He took his phone out.

"Michael? Can I come over to you? Whereabouts? Is now ok? Cheers."

He started up and drove off.

Sat in Michael's elegant first floor parlour, cup and saucer in hand, La Traviata playing softly in the background, Joey's mind wandered around. No, parlour wasn't the right word. What was, sitting room, drawing room, reception room? Joey wasn't sure, but it was a world away from Kelsall Street. The last time he was here, to take his mind off the evening they'd had, Michael had told him how a 'portion' had discovered the original iron balconies to this room, rusting away in a corner of the garden. Joey had questioned the use of the word 'portion', and had been amused by the explanation. Never mind different world this was a whole different universe. He was doing it himself now, random thoughts to keep his mind away from Roxy.

Michael returned bearing a folder. "Are you sure you want this Joey? It won't make pretty reading."

"Yeah I know, but I have to resolve this." He sounded determined.

A touch reluctantly Michael handed it over and sat in the chair facing Joey, watching him carefully.

"Thanks." Joey accepted the folder.

He read through silently, making one or two notes. The amount of detail it contained shook him. There was stuff there he didn't know about her and he'd known her for years. How on earth had Michael got so much information? Then Joey remembered him saying he'd been in military intelligence. And Michael was right, it didn't make comfortable reading. He forced his mind back to the matter in hand. "So I could catch her as she finishes work this afternoon." He handed it back. "Thanks."

Michael had been watching him. "Do you want me to deal with this Joey?"

Joey managed a wan smile. "No. I need to sort this. But thanks though."

"Do you want me to accompany you?"

Joey was tempted, but it would just be another stick to beat him with if Roxy thought he needed to have his hand held. She'd always accused him of being a mummy's boy as it was. She'd have a field day if he took Michael with him. He shook his head. "No, I have to deal with it myself." He gave a tiny, strained smile.

"Take care of yourself in all this Joey." Michael looked at him anxiously.

"I will yeah. I just don't know what she thinks she's playing at, sending this to me mam." He finished his coffee.

"To get at you Joey, obviously. She knows your Achilles heel." Michael looked surprised that Joey would even need to ask this question.

"Right I'm gonna go and speak to her and find out just what she's up to to." His voice unwavering, undeterred by the task ahead.

"Like I said, watch out." Michael saw him to the door. "Oh, and by the way, there's a lucrative little contract coming up and I could do with a bit of support, if you're interested."

Joey nodded, he realised Michael was trying to help by giving him something else to think about, but work with him so often involved straying into territories Joey preferred to stay out of. Still it did always pay well. He clasped his hand and left.

He saw Roxy straight away, walking quickly, and pulled alongside her.

"Roxy, can I talk to you?" He tried to keep the mixed emotions he was feeling, the anger, nervousness, disdain, out of his voice.

"What about Joey. I'm late picking up the kid." She looked at him, eyes wide, liquid pools to lose him in.

But she got in. "Go on then."

"Look at me." He ordered.

"I don't particularly want to." She kept looking towards the window.

"I need to see your face." Joey was intent on getting the truth from her this time.

Reluctantly she turned her eyes.

"This." He brandished the letter at her. He was finding it hard to keep his temper in check.

"Another game, Joey." She was dismissive and went to get out of the car.

And that response only made it harder. He stopped her.

"It's your writing Roxy. I know your writing. Didn't you think of that? God you're hopeless."

He stopped, needing to get a grip on himself, before he said things he knew he would regret.

"And why send it to mam? Why should she be hurt?"

Roxy was aware of his mood, his temper had always concerned her, so she went straight on the offensive.

"Because she hurt me by always coming first. Mam this, mam that"

"I loved you Roxy." Joey couldn't believe he'd put it in the past tense when he was still very much in love with her. It had just come out like that.

"Love? You talk as though you understood what the word means." She practically spat the words out.

Joey had to get away from the question of love else he knew he'd take her in his arms, kiss her and tell her it didn't matter and everything would be fine. He steeled himself. "So am I? The father?"

"Four years ago when you left me,"

"In between you leaving me," Joey interrupted.

"I was pregnant. I met Stan, he didn't mind. We got married. He never asked who the father was, but when I got pregnant again he wouldn't believe it was his. Then I met you again and you know the rest. I lost his baby."

A typical Roxy swerve. He knew the last sentence was a lie. Aborted she should have said.

He followed on. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"There was no need, Stan had accepted it. We were happy."

She was still being evasive, her words open to interpretation when he wanted a yes or a no. He spotted a little chink and took advantage. "Why now?"

"Stan's left me."

He sensed the vulnerability, it was now or never to get the truth. He went in for the kill. He repeated himself. "So am I?"

"Yes."

Oh God, his mind collapsed in on itself, a series of disjointed scenes flashed past, dissolving into each other and mutating into nightmare scenarios. Before he had a chance to get himself together he heard her say,

"No, no, no."

Finally, the truth. The visions exited, to be replaced by nothing. No thoughts, no images, a vacuum where his brain had been. His emotions froze, time stood still. His breathing suspended.

"I live in a bedsit for Christ's sake, my child goes to nursery in the morning and me mam's in the afternoon. At night I read him a crappy story. And that's his life. We need someone, something." He heard her as though his ears were full of water, her voice echoing, only dimly aware of the sheer desperation in her voice.

So that was it, she needed someone to support them now Stan had gone, and she'd thought she'd try it on. If she'd explained the situation to him honestly, without involving his mam and cutting out all the lies and games, he'd have helped them out willingly.

There was a potent silence. Roxy unsure if she'd overplayed her hand, Joey frantically trying to get back on an even keel after the hammering he'd just taken.

Regardless of everything she'd said and done to him, it was not in Joey's nature to ignore someone in distress, let alone the women that he'd spent a good part of his adult life loving.

Joey broke it. "I'll help you."

She went to speak, he silenced her with a wave. "It's only money. That's all I can give you now."

She got out of the car, without saying anything and Joey drove off quickly, jaw clenched, eyes focused ahead. He didn't dare look in the mirror in case what he saw tugged on his wrecked heart and he turned back to her.